This is few people’s favourite Shakespeare — it’s too odd, too nasty, and it drags on a bit as it takes us towards a culinary conclusion in which our hero kills the men who raped his daughter, then serves them up to their mother in a pie. Yet Lucy Bailey’s blackly comical production is the best I’ve seen. It first appeared at the Globe in 2006, when it prompted some audience members to faint, and the same has happened here again this week. Alongside the excitement of high passions and grotesque bloodshed, though, is the sobering sense that revenge is for